


Nothing

by 44TayLo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Banner's Sad Backstory, Demisexual Bruce Banner, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, One-sided Bruce Banner/Tony Stark - Freeform, Open Relationships, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (background) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: "Maybe, Bruce realized, this was why he still itched to run, despite the fact that he was no longer hunted by the military. Or, maybe, being safe and accepted and in one place was too much like moving forward, and the hooks in his brain that had been put there by his father and reinforced by his fractured psyche and damnable ego were pulling him back. A sort of Freudian choke collar."Tony offers Bruce almost everything he wants, but Bruce can never move forward.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago. Just a sad, little one-shot.

There were days when Bruce felt like nothing. Maybe it was strange, considering his condition made it so that he was never nothing, even if he himself wasn’t the one present. Still, there were days when he felt the emptiness inside of him like an ache. His brain felt foggy and sluggish, even his intelligence ripped from him in the face of whatever this phenomenon was.

Sometimes, Bruce wondered if this was his natural state, and he’d just become so used to it he usually didn’t notice. The hooks in his brain that kept him immobile and not quite alive had been there so long, they’d healed over, only making their presence known when he tugged futilely forward.

Bruce had tried to explain it to Tony, once. He was an exposed nerve, sure, but he was also like a cavity. He looked whole on the outside, but he was hollow, rotting away inside a bit more each day.

Tony didn’t understand. That didn’t surprise Bruce in the slightest. Even when Tony succumbed to his insecurities and fears, he was never nothing. Neither was Bruce, but that only made it more difficult to try and explain how the nothingness swallowed his chest from the inside during the lulls.

Maybe, Bruce realized, this was why he still itched to run, despite the fact that he was no longer hunted by the military. Or, maybe, being safe and accepted and in one place was too much like moving forward, and the hooks in his brain that had been put there by his father and reinforced by his fractured psyche and damnable ego were pulling him back. A sort of Freudian choke collar.

“I don’t get it,” Tony admitted flippantly, and Bruce had expected it to be harder for him to announce a lack of understanding.

Confusion settled over Bruce as Tony scooted closer to him on the couch. The distance between them was minimal, now, and despite Tony’s tactile nature, Bruce was still struggling with the idea that someone could know what he was and still want to get close.

“I do understand being too inside your own head, though,” Tony continued.

A careful hand settled over Bruce’s thigh, causing his brows to shoot up into his hairline. The touch wasn’t unwelcome. Quite the opposite. Still, Bruce knew he should extract himself and put distance between them before Tony was pulled into his orbit. Nothing good ever came from being close to Bruce, and he knew it.

He didn’t move.

Tony must have taken that as the consent that it was, because his thumb began to rub a careful circle against Bruce’s thigh. “You need to get outside of your head, Bruce.”

Bruce’s eyes closed, his head tilting back against the couch as he let out a breathy sigh. This was wonderful and terrible, inevitable and confusing. There was no way Tony could want him, and yet he wasn’t so oblivious that he hadn’t noticed their intense chemistry. It had only continued to build over the last few months since Bruce moved into the Tower.

There were a million reasons for Bruce to say no. Beyond the typical, self-deprecating thoughts and fears that he would hurt Tony either directly or because the universe liked to destroy the things he allowed himself to care about, Bruce also knew this was dangerously codependent. It would be so easy to let Tony help him forget about the nothingness, about the fact that if you cracked his ribs open, only cavernous darkness, perhaps tinged with green, would emerge.

He would need Tony, because such a distraction would become addicting. He would care about him even more than he already did, become protective, adoring, certainly loving. He always did fall too hard and too fast. In fact, he wasn’t certain he wasn’t already falling head over heels for his best friend. He wanted that. The affection and domesticity and love.

The decision still hadn’t been made for him, the steady pressure of Tony’s hand still a constant presence on Bruce’s thigh. His eyes opened and met Tony’s. He was staring, again surprising Bruce, clearly waiting for more blatant consent.

For some reason, that was what snapped Bruce from his yearning reverie. He shifted his leg, pulling it away from Tony’s touch. That sort of relationship couldn’t become a reality. Not for him.

“It’s not…” Bruce cleared his throat, searching for words and finding they too were being swallowed up by the black hole in his chest. “I want to,” he finished lamely, eyes downcast and head hung.

“But you aren’t going to,” Tony easily surmised. His tone wasn’t judgmental, but it was painfully casual.

Bruce winced. That was exactly why they couldn’t. Saying no was tearing daggers into his heart, while it clearly didn’t have much of an effect on Tony. As he watched Tony squeeze his shoulder in a friendly gesture before standing from the couch and leaving (not before telling Bruce to come find him if he changed his mind), Bruce realized this pain was actually better than the nothing. He wasn’t pulling forward anymore, so he wasn’t disturbing the hooks in his brain. Besides, he was used to the pain of ripping his own heart to shreds.

In a way, Tony had still helped him.

There was no way he could stay here with Tony’s strangely grounding presence. Tony had so much going for him. A loving girlfriend (though they were in an open relationship, as Tony loved to remind him with a waggle of his brows and teasing smirk), Iron Man, Stark Industries, and now the Avengers Initiative. Bruce wouldn’t ruin any of it. He refused to.

Bruce put his head in his hands and let the nothing coalesce into tears that wouldn’t fall. He was back, brain coming online along with a throbbing in his temples and those daggers, maybe they were more like claws, tearing at his chest

Feeling, Bruce trekked back to his bedroom and began to pack.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
